Just Watch Her
by Breezytealy
Summary: Goten is enjoying a lovely evening in with his best friends. Shame if something were to ruin that, huh?


_[[A/N: All of the stories appearing on my profile are in the same timeline, so form part of a whole. However they are standalone - like this one - unless otherwise stated._ _This fic was written for Monday's 'weakness' prompt for Tumblr's Dragon Ball Next Gen Week 2018. Enjoy!]]_

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Laughter rang through the near-empty Paozu Place café. The low fire's warm glow barely cast shadows on the far wall, drawing the couches and occupants by the fireplace into their own cosy and timeless bubble. Anyone bothering to wind their way to the dead-end plaza this late at night would stumble upon just that; four friends catching up over after-hours coffee without a care in the world. One, the owner, long out of apron and hoarding a whole bag of chips, was determined to have the fewest cares of all.

No passing neighbour would suspect the low-lights deliberate. If they took the time to peek through a gap in the blinds and wait for their eyes to adjust from the streetlights outside, they'd see Goten with people that, at any other time, he'd swear were customers he barely knew. But here he was, his daytime amiability towards these regulars transformed into the kind of closeness found between childhood friends.

Curled up next to him was a younger woman, the journalist, now for once not spreading laptop and notes across an entire table in a deadline-induced stress. Instead she happily grazed on an inordinate amount of cake, pastries and snacks _she'd_ decanted into mishmashes of bowls and plates - as though she'd been in the café backrooms just as often as some of the staff.

Holding court on a separate couch closest to Goten lounged an optical illusion. One couldn't be sure if the light was playing tricks but the man in his early thirties very much resembled the owner of Capsule Corporation. But that couldn't be right. Although that man would bustle through this coffee house on the odd occasion he was in town - best beans to counter the jetlag, he'd claim - he was supposed to be halfway round the world in West not Satan City, was rarely this animated and hardly ever out of a suit.

While the look-alike was a curiosity, careful inspection of the third regular - the younger man with the mohawk - would raise even more questions. During the day he'd be found mostly drawing the other staff or regulars into light conversation (or burying his face in a book when a police officer stopped by), wearing loose fitting, bright tees or hoodies. Tonight though he was clad in dark, tight athletic gear designed to wick away the non-existent heat and sweat, reaching only halfway down his upper arms and thighs, leaving the rest of him to freeze. It was an odd choice of dress given the milder weather, and he huddled by the fire to compensate, firelight glinting from a watch and barely visible earpiece.

No, it was important to keep the light low. Goten had for several years. He didn't need neighbours asking questions of the company he kept and unraveling his cosy double-life within seconds. He liked everything just the way it was, thank you very much.

As much of a headturner and therefore danger as Uub's current outfit was, Goten didn't begrudge him wearing it here. The guy was on call and Goten knew _exactly_ how those watch-capsuled Hero costumes could strangle when wearing anything more flamboyant than cargo shorts and a tee.

What _was_ dampening his buzz were Uub's intermittent glances. Not the casual look of attention as the conversation rolled around them all but a regular flicking towards his direction. The few times Goten caught him he'd look away quickly enough, pretending to be enthralled by Trunks' story but his terrible poker face would result in his face contorting to suppressed a chuckle. Goten had even tried wiping his face but had found no chip crumbs. Maybe he was being paranoid, but it was just enough to keep him from relaxing. Still he resolved to keep trying, turning back to the conversation just in time to be unceremoniously squashed.

"And yet the billion Zeni question remains, Sir," - Marron, ignoring all Goten's protestations, climbed over him to mime her dictaphone for Trunks - " _are_ you going to hire this proven genius?"

Trunks took his time stroking his chin, dignity somewhat lessened by the bulge of cake in his cheek. "You know, I don't think I've ever known a man to lie so much to get my attention." He managed to swallow. "Is that an admirable quality in a senior engineer?"

"Maybe he really _does_ have 'that robot from the Cell Games' in his apartment." Goten spotted an opening and wholeheartedly exploited it. "Could be a cute family reunion, ay Mar?"

She sat back scoffing and smacked him on the leg, but had no come back. _One more point to him..._

Ever the man to entertain these flights of fancy Uub picked up the thread. "Or... maybe it's all a trap and he's working with the Bounty Hunters." His eyes lit up behind his favourite mug of ginger and cinnamon tea from home, the sweet vanilla shot he'd added so strong Goten could taste it from here. "I think you should investigate. Have a follow up interview at his 'lab'."

"Of course, only if I can have backup?" Trunks looked to Uub expectantly but he just gave a wearisome shake of the head.

"I can't help you, friend. Papayaman may be be the defender of the weak but he is _no_ t going out West to play bodyguard to some rich noodle."

"You wound me."

"True or not," Goten skillfully enunciated through a mouthful of chips, "this guy has major balls to even say that to your face. I like him. You gotta employ him. I would."

"Of course _you_ would." Before Goten could counter Marron's snark she'd cheated by loudly racing on. "How'd he even get to the final stage, anyway?" She tossed another chip in her mouth.

And there it was again, Uub averting his eyes and pretending to wait on an answer from Trunks, as though that stifled smirk had never been aimed in _his_ direction. But no one else commented. Was he going crazy?

"From what I can work out," said Trunks, and Goten wrestled himself from his stupor, "Cybernetics upset Recruitment with a slapdash job description. In retaliation HR let a few duds by to waste an equal amount of their - and now my - time."

"Speaking of..." Uub tapped his watch at Marron.

"Eleven?" She did a poor job of hiding her disappointment and Goten had to agree. Had they been down here that long already? She half sighed, half groaned when standing to stretch. "I better get going." She side-eyed Trunks. "Shouldn't you be back at work?"

"The boss has to have lunch breaks, too."

"Not two hours, surely…"

"Oh, but I'm 'on-a-call' right now." He made one-handed air quotes, the other occupied with a mug of a highly bitter slurry. "I can stay a little longer. Believe me, I'm in no rush to get back to _that_ farce."

"You know," - Uub leaned in, the model of friendly concern - "I heard if you're experiencing dissatisfaction at work it could be down to poor management?"

Both Goten and Marron exchanged a snigger, but Trunks returned only a slow blink. "I'll get on that. Who _is_ your line manager, anyway?"

"Crime, I guess. She keeps me employed for sure but doesn't really play by the- play by the rules..." His double-take at Goten complete with cough to cover his obvious amusement was the final straw. Even worse this time, Trunks had joined in, his feigned contempt slipping.

Before Goten could call them out on what was definitely not his paranoia Marron cut across, wonderfully oblivious to their joke. "Well, if his last email was anything to go by, _my_ boss is going to rip my latest piece to shreds. I better get my beauty sleep - my pretty face'll be all I have left." To complete the picture she shoved her handful of chips into her mouth, resuming her scan of the couches and fireplace. "Ish muy scurf hure?"

"Seeing as you _stole_ half my stock when we were out training," Goten made a point to let the accusation hang, "I'm pretty sure you left your 'scurf' in the back kitchen."

She choked down her mouthful in indignation, not quite as adept at talking and eating as Trunks and Goten had learnt to be. "Come on" - she pouted - "the pastries were old and I kept the fire going for you!" He would not be taken in.

"It better not be sitting on a clean surface!"

"Just be grateful for a change!" she shouted over her shoulder, before disappearing into those gloomy backrooms. He waited until he heard the bead curtain clacking back before rounding on Uub and Trunks.

"What are you two laughing at?"

They ignored him, Trunks first taking a long and noisy sip of his coffee.

"You were right..."

"Told you!" Uub beamed.

"You gonna let me in on this, or…?"

They exchanged glances, passing responsibility back and forth until it settled squarely on Trunks' shoulders. "Fine." He leant towards Goten, coffee cup placed down with a soft and serious clink, then steepled his fingers. "How many of those chips have you eaten, exactly?"

Goten's free hand shot to his face again, but finding no crumbs he played it off as a gesture of thought. In truth he had no idea, and no amount of racking his brain was going to help remember; he never did pay much attention to what he was shovelling into his mouth.

"A more direct question then. How many chips has _Marron_ eaten?"

And again, more pointlessness. "How the hell would I know? She has her own bag."

"No she doesn't!" The lilt to Uub's voice was ominous.

Goten went to argue, to point to her stash. She'd been sitting next to him after all, munching away in his ear. But whilst her long-discarded plate was certainly covered in flakes of stale pastries, there wasn't a chip crumb - or bag - in sight.

She'd been sitting next to him.

He narrowed his eyes. "You saying she was sneaking my food?"

"You didn't notice?" Uub laughed. "Trunks, he didn't notice!"

Trunks held up a hand to silence him, still staring into Goten's eyes as if to uncover a deep truth. "I find that hard to believe."

"Well, I didn't notice because she wasn't. She must have taken the bag with her." But then he couldn't remember seeing her with one, and had a vague recollection of her whining he took the only bag of salted.

"You seriously didn't spot her?" The piercing search of his friend's ice-blue eyes warmed for a long moment, before brightening, his face cracking to reveal the faintest of mischievous smirks. This couldn't be good. "It's worse than I thought… Buddy... "

He reached for Goten's arm, but Goten batted it away out of principle. "Don't 'buddy' me! You're acting like I'm dying. She. Didn't. Sneak My. Food. _No one_ sneaks my food."

"I know no one sneaks your food, even _I_ can't sneak your food, that's my point." Trunks' grin was dangerously wide now. "What I'm saying is, you _let_ her sneak your food."

It took a moment for the gravity of the accusation to hit him. Uub followed a beat after with a gasp, near sloshing his drink on the rug in his effort to muffle himself. Then silence, only the crackle of the fire marking the passage of time. Goten's stomach had rolled over into free fall at the mere suggestion. He threw what was left of the offending bag of chips onto the coffee table to alleviate the sensation, as if holding it were a mark of guilt.

"...No. No way, no," he finally choked out, "she must have been sneaking-"

"We watched you practically offer her the bag."

"How dare you!" Goten rounded on Trunks for that. "You're going _too_ f-!"

 _SLAM._ Trunks had raised a finger ready to retort, but promptly rescinded it at the interruption, eyes boggling.

Uub's not-so-sneaky hand spasmed at the force Goten had pinned it to the table - an auto-triggered defense of his territory. "Don't you _dare_ touch that bag."

"I thought you didn't want them?" Uub's voice squeaked with the strain.

"I'd put them down, not finished them."

"I can't even have one?" He wriggled a little, but Goten squeezed harder, not in the mood to let him free just yet.

"No."

Trunks took a light tone. "And why's that?"

"Because!" Goten didn't bother to look up at him, still deciding whether Uub had learnt his lesson. "This is different!"

The words had tumbled from his mouth before he could engage his rusty filter. Hearing them aloud did not sound good.

Taking advantage of Goten's panic, Uub slipped his hand out to nurse his wrist. His pointed look to Trunks proved the charade had been an obvious test, and Goten had not just stupidly dug his own grave but lowered himself in it to boot.

Trunks of course wasted no time embellishing his god-awful machinations.

"So you're admitting it: you let Marron eat your chips because she's different."

"That's not what I said!"

"But you _were_ letting her have them?"

He couldn't keep denying the weight of evidence. "...Accidentally, maybe?"

"You mean subconsciously."

"No!" God, he was ready to tear his hair out. "I just mean..." But what? What did he mean? His lips pursed and eye twitched in desperate calculation, and Trunks let a dark chuckle escape him, tapping Uub on the arm to get his attention.

"He's stuck…"

"No I'm not!"

"And now he's flustered."

"No I'm-! No, I'm not." Goten exhaled slowly to prove his point. "I'm _irritated_ you're making a huge deal out of this. You'll upset Marron. _Please_ stop. It's just some chips..." The attempted deflection fell flat after the demonstration.

"And dumplings," Uub added, giving his wrist one final roll.

"What." Goten's barely restrained impulse to blow up Uub's head reached him and he quite rightly flinched.

"D-dumplings," Uub's hesitation hopefully meant he was regretting all his life choices up to this moment. "Last month she took at least two… That's when I started watching..."

It took Goten a hot second to cast himself back to that post-fight meal. "Oh come on! It was a party. I share food with everyone at feasts!" And he did, he'd offer platters to the non-Saiyans first, but that wasn't what Uub meant and they all knew it.

"Go on, then." Trunks gestured to give Goten the floor. "Tell us the last time you let someone other than Marron eat off your plate."

"Last-!"

"And Gotenks doesn't count."

Goten huffed, he wasn't going to use him anyway. " _Last weekend_ , I offered Mom a bao from my real-life, _actual_ side-plate, and she took it. There."

Undeterred Trunks fell back into the couch, arms outstretched, a prosecuting lawyer to a biased jury of one. "See? Pitiful. Almost two weeks ago. You were being polite and it backfired. I bet that frustrated you."

"No." Yes, yes it had. Trunks read him like a billboard, eyebrows shooting up in incredulity. "Okay fine! You win!" Goten grabbed his bag of chips away from them both, instantly soothed knowing they were safe. "I like my food and I _might_ have _accidentally_ let her get away with taking _some_ , but that doesn't mean I l-"

A rustle. A slender arm and hand had materialised from behind him, halfway into the bag. In a roiling mess of possessiveness and embarrassment Goten watched a single chip float out, delicately held between her middle and forefingers. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

Marron winked, in one quick motion hoisting up the tenterhooks. "Long enough to know you rumbled me. I was seeing how long I could keep it up. I take it someone couldn't contain himself?" Uub mumbled an apology, but she didn't seem to mind. Instead she took great delight in her victory chip, crunching with an ear-to-ear grin. There was no hint of apprehension or a laid trap of teasing; she must not have heard the real accusation then, and Goten's breath returned.

So she _had_ been sneaking them. How? He didn't know, but the flood of relief continued to warm his fingers and toes. To his overwhelming exasperation however, Trunks still wouldn't drop it.

"How long has this been going on?" His feigned casual tone was anything but.

Marron hummed in thought. "Since last month. Honestly, I think the Bounty Hunters did a number on your head, Goten; you've even offered me food." She cackled, then ate her next chip. Wait, she'd taken another one? When?

"You mean straight after the North City incident?" Uub look fit to burst, cogs turning - too many cogs - but Trunks whilst amused was pensive, eyes softening towards Goten again.

"When else? When I saved _his_ ass for once. Kind of." She turned to Goten. "I thought you were going to be mad at me for hitting you after. I would have been. But you offered me a post-scrap dumpling so…" she shrugged. "I saw an opening and exploited it. I win, right?"

The heat rose in Goten's cheeks - much the same way, he recalled now with alarming clarity, it had last month. It all made a sickening, undeniable sense.

At the fight's end, outside North City, she'd scolded and eventually slapped him for playing near-dead, for making her waste energy deflecting the blasts trained on him. Marron had only noticed the ruse when he'd found himself sitting up agape, his improvised plan forgotten, watching her work.

He'd often thought the green of her barrier technique a cold, sickly and ominous colour. It was a last-gasp defence, a portent of doom that Marron had reluctantly found herself on the very front lines. Should he spot that green in the distance it was a sign he hadn't done a good enough job, and he'd be hearing about it later. He loathed it. But that night…

When he'd gone down, taking the brunt of the impact for real and deliberately suppressing his ki in a risky punt to lure the poachers in, the first person to step over him hadn't been the triumphant ringleader but an enraged Marron, resolved to face down the oncoming horde.

Without hesitation she'd braced, arms outstretched and fingers tense as though they held back the forces alone. One guttural yet melodic yell brought forth a tidal wave of ki, digging deeper than he'd ever known her to. Her aura grew and grew, unrelenting, a storm surge rising to impossible levels before crashing outwards, crystallising into jade barrier after barrier. On her next breath she'd made them both the eye of the storm; the maelstrom of her ki then calmed - if tense - but still flowed, shoring up the technique. The taste of trapped ozone within the bubble grew, the world outside muffled as person and ki and air had been rejected in equal measure. The only clear sounds were Marron's laboured breath and overeager ki crackling between her and the first pane of green.

Hit after hit the bubbles took. Her arms shook and teeth clenched with the force, her ki screaming against their minds in retaliation against the hunters' relentless railing outside. Gone was the Sun, the salt air and summer fruits, the soft sand and sea foam between his toes - her familiar and comforting ki signature. Her anger and desperation had stirred it to an acerbic, burning, blast of a storm he'd found himself wincing against.

That night... that night she'd glowed as keenly as the green-curtained night skies above Yunzabit Heights, the glorious peace of those sheer mountains reflected in her rooted stance over him, chaos reigning beyond. Each time a barrier shattered the almighty crack reverberated back and each time she cast the pieces aside, somehow finding the energy to reform anew. The abandoned shards proceeded to tear themselves apart, millions of stars burning for the briefest of moments around them both, before being finally spent.

In the truest sense of the word, he'd been in awe.

All the while, using attention she really shouldn't have spared, a portion of her ki had whipping around and threaded through them both, enveloping his body, desperately trying to rouse him. He resisted its command, but its urgency became so pained and panicked he relented, releasing his ki again to calm hers. Her face had flushed with relief as she received the message. She'd snatched a glance down, then stumbled with confusion at his perfect health, two barriers tumbling with her distraction. When she figured out what she'd unwittingly interrupted she groaned in frustration, then channeled that to a seething rage to power them through until the sudden, jarring moment the storm outside was cut down. They'd survived completely unharmed, and she was the reason why.

She'd laughed in disbelief, high and giddy, breath coming between in rasps, faint moonlight reflecting off a film of sweat. Exhaustion taking her, she'd dropped near-enough on top of him, releasing the technique and letting the barriers warp and snap to fill the air with a second Milky Way. She'd turned to him. Her unused ki - despite everything she still had something to give - slackened around them both, warm with the sense of the Sun shining through again. Though it quickly cooled against him... before coalescing to support a backhand across his face.

He barely remembered what she screamed at him, some mix of "idiot!" and "communicate!" and "don't do that again!" and "I could have died!" He'd been too taken aback by the play of flickering lights across her form as the stars faded away, his cheek smarting and ears ringing. She'd got so close to prod him the tang of her sweat overwhelmed what was left of that sandalwood and vanilla perfume she loved, underlining the effort the stunt had cost her, that she'd near spent herself for him. His lack of response meant she tired quickly, and so she stormed off to find the others, leaving him adrift in her wake. In the dark.

Never one to dwell, since that night he'd replayed the scene only once. He'd chalked up his fast heartbeat to the adrenaline, obsession with her form down to his own training, maybe some fight-induced tinnitus messing with hearing her, his Saiyan senses overcompensating to notice she'd put perfume on that day - why he'd remembered the exact fragrance long after, even now. She'd impressed him in battle as an equal. Nothing more.

And despite a creeping feeling whispering, he'd assured himself nothing had changed.

But then if nothing much had changed in his head from one day to the next, maybe his feelings had been changing for a while...

Marron, still preening, leant in for another chip. Gold from the fire washed across her laughing face now, but he could only see her in green.

"Don't!"

He'd withdrawn the bag, reacting poorly to the conflict growing in his stomach and at how close she suddenly was, vanilla stronger than ever. She paused mid-sentence, a slight frown of suspicion forming.

"I…" He tried to swallow but found his mouth dry. "You just startled me. Take one, it's fine." Trunks coughed in real surprise at his concession, and Goten found himself darting between his friends. "No, wait! I mean, uhh..."

"Are you okay?" She went to take his temperature with the back of her hand and he instinctively recoiled at the prospect of her touch. He'd never done that before.

"I… I don't know?"

"...Are _we_ okay?" Marron's voice was laced with genuine concern.

A beep from Uub's watch broke the burgeoning tension, saving Goten from answering. Uub took the call with his earpiece.

"Go ahead." He affected a deeper voice, the absurdly grand tones of a Hero. The group waited in respectful silence. "It _does_ sound like a job for Papayaman. I'll be there in two." He ended the call and got to his feet, downing the dregs of his, Goten now realised, vanilla-less drink. "Armed assault in Marban district, out west."

"My direction, then? I'll follow you out." Trunks tilted his head expectantly at Marron. "Coming?"

She nodded and eyed the shadowed steps up to his apartment, though turned back to Goten, still worried.

"I'm okay, really, and don't stress about the food. Just need my beauty sleep, too." She smiled at the joke, but still something sat between them. He tried again. "Thanks for watching the place tonight."

"Not a problem. Even down here it's still cosier than mine." Marron finally tied her recovered scarf. "By the way... I found it in the bread mixer bowl." She'd bolted to the steps before he could complain, but he only had the energy to roll his eyes.

Uub winked a playful goodbye as he passed, disappearing under the helmet of his now activated Hero costume. As good a friend as he was, his excitement meant he didn't get it. Long overdue, Goten finally accepted Trunks' pat and shoulder squeeze of support, wordlessly communicating an offer to talk. He fully understood the danger of the precipice Goten found himself peering over.

The three of them made their way to the roof through Goten's unlocked apartment, on the climb Marron threatening to dead-arm Uub for ruining her fun. Their argument faded into silence. He was finally alone.

Tension fleeing with a long breath, Goten leant back eyes closed. The warmth and crackle of the log fire faded to be replaced by the cracks and snaps of those green glowing ki barriers, the strain on her face and desperation to save him carried in her stance and outstretched hands, her yell and breath threading through the shaking pandemonium, the only constant, a mast to cling to. Then the force of that backhand across his cheek, this time turning to a soft and sunny caress...

A snap from a log made him opened his eyes again, back to the warm reds of the fire's glow, but her green touch lingered.

 _Ah nuts._ He'd already fallen.

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 _[[A/N: This has been posted as a one shot but as you can imagine it has space to to a expanded, or be a prequel... Author happily accepts (and responds via PM where possible) to all kinds of comments - from CC to emojis and keyboard smashes - Hope you enjoyed it :)]]_


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